


"With My Hands"

by claritylore



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, First Time, Frottage, M/M, One Shot, PWP, Strangulation, When therapy goes wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1508294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claritylore/pseuds/claritylore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will's reckoning, when it comes, is swift. But Hannibal has been waiting and he's ready to make the most of it.</p><p>Just exorcising a plot bunny. An irredeemable porny plot bunny. Who needs plot anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"With My Hands"

"Don't lie to me," Will had commanded, his eyes bright with a newfound inner strength that had made something inside Hannibal thrum with pleasure. He was the lion in the room but he was purring at the prospect of a new circus master's whip.  
  
Nothing related to Will Graham had ever made much sense to him. He could predict a great many things - it was his job and his pride to do so - but the shape and contours of Will's nature were a rubix cube with the tiles switching in and out.  
  
That was why, he supposed, he hadn't predicted the moment of the great snap that had been teased for so long. Hannibal supposed it had been the mention of Alana and his long tedious nights whiling away his time in her arms; a sufficient temporary distraction between the reign of the Chesapeake Ripper and the reign of whatever next persona he would inevitably soon begin to fashion. Not needing a great deal of sleep left a lot of time to fill. And their affair had been, if nothing else, quite helpful in pushing Will closer to this moment.  
  
Will leapt at him like a wolf, faster than Hannibal knew he even could be. Being smaller in stature, he had only surprise to aid him, and so that was the dagger he chose to employ. Hannibal had turned aside in his seat for a mere second and that had been enough time for Will to attack.  
  
His seat tipped back and hit the floor, and Will was suddenly seated on him, hands twisting at his neck, muscles shaking with effort, eyes tinged red with anger. Surprise gave him the advantage but Hannibal was a master of calm, his response that of bemusement, not of fear. He put on a show of slight choking, for Will's benefit, but couldn't help but smile a little and meet his gaze confidently.  
  
Hannibal let his hands settle on Will's hips, rather than make any attempt to free his windpipe of the pressure. Will was a beautiful white hot fire against him and he licked away the salty tears that fell from Will's eyes and onto his lips. It couldn't be helped, the sight of Will out of control proved to be intensely erotic to him, and he was anchoring the curve of Will's behind with his hands while he ground his hips, hard beyond control.  
  
He knew he might die. All he could hear was repeated pleas for him to do just that, "just die, just die", amidst the heavy thudding rhythm of his own heart. Will might go through with it and might end him once and for all. But Hannibal had never feared death; he only feared not enjoying the process of getting to it.  
  
This was surprisingly enjoyable. The shudder that went through Will's body when he realised what was straining against the crevice of his buttocks just made it even better. In an instant, he stilled and released his hands, and Hannibal didn't let his natural gasps for air prevent him from focusing and grabbing hold of Will's wrists to prevent his escape. And although that meant he couldn't hold his ass in place anymore, it had the desired effect of holding him in place, which was of more importance for the moment.  
  
In a fluid and electric motion, Will's rage swept through them both again. He tried to wrestle free of the shackles of Hannibal's hands about his wrists and to pull away, but the man was too determined. He only ended pushed even closer to the heat of Hannibal's crotch and pressed their bellies together.  
  
Hannibal's eyes lit up as he felt a responding heat fighting through Will's pants and setting fire to him and he made no effort to hide that he had noticed.  
  
"Fuck you," Will growled and then grimaced at Hannibal's tiny hint of a smile; the flash of welcome that passed over his eyes. A poor choice of words if ever there had been any.  
  
There was a subtle relaxation of the muscles of Will's arms which had been straining against him. Hannibal took full and immediate advantage by bringing one of Will's hands to his lips and sucking on his fingers. He made no attempt to hide how much he enjoyed the sight of Will's pupils blown out of all proportion, tuning his eyes almost black. Adrenalin was coming off his patient in waves, making him all the sweeter to Hannibal's senses.  
  
The act of teasing with his tongue stilled Will completely, though whether that was in surprise or out of lust, Hannibal couldn't honestly tell. He took advantage by releasing Will's other hand and sliding his own back over Will's hip and around the swell of his ass, gently starting to undulate his hips again. He was rewarded with a change of Will's breathing, from near absent to heavy, in deep huffs that only served to increase his arousal.  
  
Hannibal knew then that he had Will completely back under his control, and with significant benefits.  
  
"Would you like to know what Miss Bloom enjoys?" he rasped, his voicebox bruised but thankfully not crushed. "I could teach you."  
  
Again, Will groaned and Hannibal felt him start to tilt his hips a little, following his established rhythm. One hand had fallen against his chest, while the other, freshly released from Hannibal's teasing mouth, had landed on the black leather of the chair over his shoulder to take his weight.  
  
"Or would you enjoy showing me what you would do to her, if given the chance?" Hannibal parted his thighs, which were against Will's back due to the angle of the upturned chair seat, just a little, just enough to be felt.  
  
Will let out a broken half sob, half growl, and seemed to strain against him more.  
  
Hannibal slithered a hand around the back of his neck and tugged him a little closer so he could whisper, conspiratorially. "Do you fantasize about fucking me as well killing me? Would you like to choke me with something other than your hands?"  
  
Something barely intelligible fell from Will's lips. It sounded like a half formed gasp of, "You're a monster."  
  
Hannibal increased the pace of the friction building between them, his writhing movements becoming a series of hip bumps that shook Will's entire body. He watched with no small amount of awe as Will threw his head back, exposing his long neck with the pointed apple at the centre to him, biting his bottom lips and squeezing his eyes shut.  
  
The hand which slid away from the back of Will's neck snaked to his shoulder, and then was redeployed around Will's hand, where he was fisting the fabric of Hannibal's waistcoat. Hannibal pulled his fingers free and guided his hand down between their bellies.  
  
Will didn't pause, all hesitation leaving him in the heat of the moment. He helped Hannibal pop open the button on his pants and push them down, along with his underwear, freeing Will's leaking cock from its confines. He hissed as Hannibal grasped onto the shaft, confidently, and stroked the sensitive flesh in time with his hip movements.  
  
After a few promises made in strong tugs, Hannibal frantically redeployed both of his hands to unfasten his belt and get rid of the last layers of fabric standing between them; his own. Will craned his neck downwards to watch and immediately caught on as Hannibal pressed their hard cocks together and wrapped Will's fingers around both at once, leaving him free to grab hold of Will's buttocks again as an anchor and encourage the rhythm to continue.  
  
The sensation of heat and friction generated was delicious. Will's fumbling hand crushed his cock against Hannibal's, sweat and pre-ejaculate coating his palm and keeping the burn on the right side of achingly pleasurable. In his mind's eye, he could see Will's tiny pink kiss-shaped hole, fluttering against the cold air as his grasping hands pulled his cheeks apart repeatedly with every thrusting motion he made.  
  
He wrestled against his surging desire to ruin Will completely; flip him, pin him, fuck him, _fill_ him. The devil behind his eyes was telling him to just do it; he'd let Will have his moment of reckoning, it was his turn. It was his _right_ to take that juicy little unfucked hole and own it. Will was his creation, his own private monster, for him to abuse and to adore. He wanted to come inside him over and over until he was dripping, and then he wanted to suck the poison out and tongue the raw flesh left behind. He wanted to bite him and mark him, and make it impossible for him to sit down without remembering, without _knowing_ who he belonged to. Then he wanted to teach Will to do exactly the same thing to him.  
  
The saner part of him held him back, knowing that a longer game was needed if this was to be more than a one time event. Will was still fragile, still unable to accept that the dance they had been engaging in for the best part of a year had always been a mating call at the core. His fractured mind had never allowed him to see it before. Hannibal knew that there was no way he was ready to embrace all the sick pleasure in store for him; not yet anyway. He had to take things slowly.  
  
Hannibal had been waiting for Will to snap, because that was the only way this could ever have happened. He would have waited and waited for as long as it took, for another year or for ten, but almost inevitably, Will had surprised him. He always seemed to be able to do that.  
  
Will's keening gasps as their rhythm started to stutter and find its peak were glorious to listen to. Hannibal couldn't help his own moans of pleasure, fucking into Will's hand hard and fast, clinging to him desperately. Will finally stilled and Hannibal felt warm splatter hit all the way up to his chin; the shock of it triggered his own rutting, mindless orgasm that pooled between them.  
  
In the gasping breathless high that followed, he smiled and dipped his tongue downwards to taste the salty pearls left there. Will let out a broken sob and began to collapse against him, but Hannibal had one final mission he was determined to carry out. He used the moment of bonelessness to capture Will's mouth with his own and held onto him tightly, anchoring him.  
  
The kiss they shared was gentle and sweet, somehow belonging to a different time and place entirely; stolen, perhaps, from their future. Hannibal was thrilled to feel Will calmly reciprocating, positively melting. Hannibal was almost purring in pleasure at the sudden turn of events and the anticipation of where it would lead next. He just couldn't help it. This had been his design from almost the moment he'd set eyes on Will Graham.  
  
Eventually, Will pulled back and stared down at him with an unreadable expression. Hannibal held his breath, sensing that Will's reckoning was not yet done and that the rage that had been swept aside temporarily was building again.  
  
He recoiled with the sharp blow of a fist to his jaw, but it didn't provoke nearly as much of a reaction in him as the shock of cold that came with Will leaping away from him. It made him want to curl in on himself, momentarily vulnerable.  
  
"I should have killed you," Will growled from somewhere nearby, his voice rigid with frustrated effort, his hands fighting with the fabric of his clothes to make himself look presentable again.  
  
"There's time yet," Hannibal promised, lightly. "My door is always open."  
  
Hannibal both heard and felt the door slam behind Will. He remained where he'd landed for a while, his chair still upturned and his legs hooked over the front, come cooling against his skin and drying onto his clothes, wondering how he could provoke Will into putting his hands to good use again as soon as possible.


End file.
